


Port Pelmet

by Deathcomes4u



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sticky, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-02-26 11:44:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2650814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathcomes4u/pseuds/Deathcomes4u
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An embarrassing accident and odd solution leads to a bored, revved up Bumblebee and a Bulkhead curious enough to be swayed by his wheedling.</p>
<p>It turns out skirts are something of a turn on for the both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Port Pelmet

**Author's Note:**

> This was a really dumb idea I got while working on a temp job. Before they taught me how to do enough shit to keep me busy, I had too much free time and privacy, and this was born. It started with pictures and evolved into a one-shot. Not sure why I ended up having a thing for these two but there is art for this ficlet on my Tumblr: Deathcomes4u. It's tagged with the fic title. BTW if you get the joke in it you get a gold star.
> 
> Turns out i have a thing for robots in skirts like WOAH. I was like a year late. (tbh I got into skirts n dresses all of a sudden and that migrated to robots). This piece of shit took me like 3 months to write gdi. I had to be in the right mood.
> 
> SO YE have this dumb friends-with-benefits dorky smut. It's in no way romantic, it's like a bad porno, these two are dorks, idfk.

“I hate Prowl. I hate Prometheus Black. I miss my skidplate.”

Bumblebee wandered into Bulkhead’s room and flopped down onto an oil barrel, sulking, knees turned in with an irritated sound.

“And I don’t know how Sari deals with wearing clothes. How can she even tell when they’re still on or not? I can barely feel this piece of scrap. I have no idea when or if it’s falling down or hitching up or whatever. Keep having to check.”

Bulkhead sat and listened to his friend’s griping good-naturedly. He was used to it after all. The griping, that was. Not the fact he was basically wearing a skirt.

It had been Prowl’s idea as a means of providing the scout with some modesty. His pelvic and thigh armour had been so badly slagged by the acid wielding villain in their last encounter that Ratchet had had to remove them on the spot to stop the corrosion reaching his protoform.

And of course, desperate times called for desperate measures, so the sub-compact couldn’t exactly refuse when Prowl had come up with a quick solution.

It had come in the form of a curtain from a nearby store. The front of the place had been trashed during the fight, the owners hadn’t given a toss about losing the scrap of fabric. That and a little of Ratchet’s stash of duct tape (he swore by it as an emergency patching material) and Bumblebee had been able to scrape what was left of his dignity off the sidewalk and hobble home.

Fabricating new armour was going to take a little time, so he was stuck with the modesty curtain for a while.

Sari had liked it at least. Bumblebee… also did, to a degree, though he wasn’t ready to admit that to Prowl.

“Isn’t it kinda cold? Y’know… having all your uuuh… parts exposed under that thing?” Bulkhead had been curious for a while, and though he and the scout had never been particularly open about intimate things like that, he couldn’t help but ask.

He didn’t really expect the sheepish look it garnered from his friend.

“Well… yeah, kinda… also sorta… nice. To be honest I um… feel kinda kinky wearing this thing.” He murmured.

THAT had heat rushing to Bulkhead’s faceplate. “ _Oh…_ Uuuh… so… I mean, I’m not doing anything really, but did you wanna… I don’t know, play some video games? Or something?”

Bee shifted, biting at his lip-plate. He glanced at the door before he got up and skittered over to close and lock it, turning back to Bulkhead with a _look._

Bulkhead knew that look. That was his ‘I have a crazy idea and I don’t know if you’ll like it but I’m going to try and convince you anyway’ look.

Bulkhead just tried not to keep thinking about how damn good the skirt looked on his small friend. Staring at it was probably rude though, he tried not to do that.

It didn’t really matter because Bumblebee wandered back over, tugging at it nervously, and sat beside him on the berth.

“What I had in mind wasn’t really video games. Look, Bulky… we’ve known each other a long time yeah?”

Bulkhead squinted at him slightly, wary of where this as going. “Yeeeeah?”

“And I know we’re not… like, we’ve always been good pals and all, and I’ve told you more about me than I’ve told anyone… but there’s stuff we just don’t talk about, y’know?”

“Yeeeeeah?” Bulkhead prompted as Bumblebee fiddled with the edge of the skirt nervously. Primus, why was that so endearing?

“And you know how we’ve all been kinda isolated out here on Earth for so long now… nobody but us five in terms of friendly cybertronians?”

Bulkhead tilted his helm. “Bee, what are you tryin’ to say?”

The scout bit at his lip-plate again, looking extremely flustered as he glanced sidelong up at his friend.

“I’m _saying…_ I wanna… fool around with you.”

The large green mech just blinked at that, non-plussed. “You wanna what? I thought most of what we did was just foolin’ around?”

Bee waved a servo at him emphatically. “Noooo not general fooling around, the _other kind_ of fooling around. Y’know… something like… friends with benefits?... maybe?”

The wide optic’d look and silence he got from Bulkhead made him panic a little as he tried to explain himself.

“I mean we’re not getting any action out here, not with the others, and we haven’t had any for AGES. None of us have.”

“Wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Bulkhead mumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Bee gave him a suspicious look before shaking his head and refocussing. “So… what do you say? I mean, I don’t wanna make things awkward for us. It’s just fragging, y’know? It’s just another thing we can do together for fun… right?”

Bulkhead looked away from those big pleading optics and tried to think clearly over the proposition.

“I don’t know Bee… I mean it might not mean anything to you, but it DOES to me. Interfacing is something you only do with… with bots you’re really close to, who you trust, and really like, and who you wanna make happy…”

“Uh… we ARE kinda… those things? I mean you’re my closest friend. Ever. I trust you. If I didn’t would I be telling you that this skirt makes me feel slaggin’ hot?” Bee gave a nervous chuckle, and Bulkhead saw him fidgeting with the material again.

Bumblebee had a point. They were pretty close, and they were all those things even though neither of them had any romantic feelings for one another. He supposed the prospect wasn’t all that disagreeable really… Bee was right, he hadn’t gotten any action in ages. Others in the team had, but not him. He wasn’t going to reveal anything he knew in that respect to Bumblebee though, for the sake of his team-mates privacy.

In the end, the fact he found the skirt kinda hot too was what made his decision for him.

He let out an expansive sigh and rumbled his engine. “Only saying yes if you promise not to tell the others.”

“Why the SLAG would I do that? Primus, that’d be awkward.”

Bulkhead chuckled at that, allowing himself to look more openly at the small strip of material now. The only thing guarding Bumblebee’s interface components from the rest of the world. The heat in his faceplate intensified.

“I don’t know what it is about this skirt thing that’s making me want it so bad but uuuh… kinda think it would be awesome if you played with it.” Bee murmured sheepishly.

Bulkhead found himself nodding, turning himself around a little where he sat as Bee let his legs relax, falling open slightly.

The green mech made a thoughtful noise. “I think it’d be easier if you just stood up. I mean my servos aren’t exactly, y’know… small. Gonna need enough room.”

The words felt so very awkward, but Bumblebee did as he suggested without question, standing beside him on the berth, ventilating a little faster than normal. They locked optics, and Bumblebee couldn’t help the grin the slid onto his face. “You look so nervous it’s like it’s your first time or something.”

Bulkhead pouted at him. “Hey! It is not, I’ve… well… actually it is my first time messing around with the skirt thing but it’s not like I never touched some bot before.”

Bumblebee just giggled and put a servo on his shoulder. “Would it be more relaxing if I did stuff like this-“

He put on an over-exaggerated seducing look and slowly spread his legs until the skirt became taut between them and began to ride up his bare thighs.

Bulkhead’s optics widened and Bumblebee broke into more giggles, leaning his head forward to thunk against a green shoulder. “I’m sorry but your _face.”_

_“MY_ face? What about you? What was that? Have you been watching Zoolander again or something?”

Bulkhead grinned despite his sulky tone, and the two of them started to feel far less awkward.

“Okok, maybe, but seriously now…. Seriously, this thing is awesome. Just… just put your servo up there.”

Bulkhead suppressed his giggles and tentatively reached between his friend’s thighs. He watched with intent as his digit disappeared behind the fabric and carefully sought… and quickly found… Bumblebee’s interface array.

The sub-compact shivered, both servos on a green shoulder now as the thick, blunt digit ghosted over valve and spike housing, touch growing bolder as Bumblebee bowed his back and spread his legs a little more.

Bulkhead started to feel the first real inklings of arousal. Especially when he stroked at the smaller mech’s valve and felt lubricant slick his finger.

He bit his glossa slightly as he gave Bumblebee an unsure look. “Are you sure my… uh… fingers aren’t too big?”

Bumblebee scoffed and smirked up at him. “Bulky, don’t you worry about what I can take. I know my limits, if something isn’t gonna fit, I’ll know, and I’ll tell you.”

Trusting that the scout wasn’t a complete masochist (he knew he was a LITTLE bit of a masochist, or he wouldn’t pull some of the crazy-dangerous stuff he did sometimes) he continued to rub firmly at the flexible valve platelets.

Primus it was such a weird turn on to him, playing with those delicate components just out of sight, the fabric offering no protection but leaving him with only haptic sensors to let him imagine what was going on beneath it.

The sounds Bumblebee made were pretty damn arousing too. He never knew his friend could moan like that. Well… no, he did, because he’d accidentally overheard him self-servicing once or twice, but he’d never thought he’d be the one CAUSING him to make those sounds.

He angled his servo a little so that the digit was positioned the right way and began to press it up into the heat of the valve, whimpering softly as he felt scorching slick heat clench around his finger.

Bumblebee was gasping and whining as Bulkhead pulled back before he got too far, thrusting lightly before pressing further.

Bee whimpered, optics offline, and rolled his hips over the digit, chasing it when it withdrew.

He heard a click and revved when he saw the skirt begin to rise, realising Bumblebee’s spike had released.

Not being able to see it but for the way it tented the fabric was way, WAY hotter than Bulkhead could have imagined. When a damp spot appeared, telling him that the scout’s spike was leaking from the force of his arousal, it undid him.

His own panel snicked open, but Bumblebee didn’t hear it over the sound of his own vents as they buzzed to try and cool him.

Bumblebee was hyper aware of the fact the room was not soundproof, and the others were wandering freely through the base. He pressed a fist against his mouth when Bulkhead began to lift his arm, and him, on every press into his valve.

His pedes were lifted a few inches from its surface every time, gravity forcing him down onto the tapered digit, hitting so many of his sensors as it curled.

His servos went to Bulkhead’s forearm, clutching and pulling, pleading for more, and the green mech gave in, raising his weight on his finger and not putting him down, another digit moving to caress the underside of his hidden spike.

That was Bumblebee’s undoing. He gave a strangled cry, trying to be quiet as his frame shuddered and thighs clenched around Bulkhead’s wrist, transfluid staining the skirt.

Bulkhead moaned at the sight, and the feel around his digit. His own spike had risen, and he’d started to stroke it with his free servo, but he wasn’t near his overload yet.

Once Bumblebee’s had passed, the scout relaxed, squirming until he was lowered and his pedes found the berth. He opened his optics and they flared as he noticed Bulkhead’s spike.

He gave a wicked grin, pushing away Bulkhead’s servo and pressing at his chestplates. “C’mon, move back a bit, my turn!”

Bulkhead was too stunned to object, doing as he was told and gawking at him as his processor stalled slightly.

By the time it had caught up to what he was seeing, Bumblebee was on his front on the berth between his legs and wrapping his mouth around the head of his rather large spike.

“Gah! BEE!”

The scout shushed him around the bulbous head of the spike, giggling as it made him clamp a servo over his mouth and whine.

Bulkhead couldn’t help but stare down his chassis at the top of the horned yellow helm. Bumblebee could only fit the head and a little of the shaft in his mouth (he didn’t like to brag, but it was in proportion with the rest of him, not to mention impressively thick).

This didn’t seem to bother the smaller bot as small servos wrapped around the rest of the shaft, stroking and squeezing and driving him absolutely _crazy._

Bulkhead trembled as he forced himself not to cry out or buck, and it was clear Bumblebee delighted in the effect he was having, because he was making obscene slurping noises and giggling every time the larger bot twitched.

And then one of those tiny, talented servos (how much damn practice did he HAVE with those?) found its way down to his valve.

Bulkhead automatically tilted his pelvis up to give him easier access, whimpering as four digits wasted no time in plunging straight into his dripping port, thrusting away in time with the one still stroking his shaft.

Bulkhead’s self-control was fairly impressive, but he knew he had no hope of tamping down his charge now. And when Bumblebee curled his thumb into his palm and pressed his whole servo into his valve, he bit down on his glossa to stop himself crying out, overload cascading through him.

He heard the smaller bot make a noise of surprise and cough around his spike. Bee tried to swallow the transfluid, but it came too fast and in too great a quantity for him to have a hope when he wasn’t prepared.

It spilled from his lips around the head and he pulled back, squeezing the base of the spike until it stopped spurting the silvery-blue fluid.

“Bluegh… I don’t mind getting messy, but warn me next time huh?” he laughed, coughing a little more and pulling his other servo out of the valve, sitting back on his aft.

Bulkhead’s vents roared as he tried to cool himself. “Uuuuugh sorry… kinda surprised me too… never thought you could, y’know…. Fit the whole servo in there.”

Bee gave him a sly look. “You telling me you’ve thought about this before?”

The green mech sputtered and looked away sheepishly. “No! I mean… I, um… maybe? Once or twice?... sorry.”

“PFFF don’t be sorry. Surprised I asked YOU and not the other way around.” He snickered. “Guess that answers your question. Now it’s my turn to admit something…”

Bulkhead looked down at him and the scout’s optics flicked between his and his still half pressurised spike. “… wanna see if that fits? I think it just might~”

Bulkhead gave him a startled look. “You mean you wanna… with me? You actually wanna ‘face?”

“Well, yeah? And my dinky little cable isn’t really gonna do much for you” he gestured blandly at the shape that was tenting his transfluid soaked skirt again.

“Aw don’t say that, it’s good for your size. But I mean… if you really wanna? I just worry I’ll hurt you. And, well… you might end up straining your hip joints, not sure how to avoid that with how wide my hips are…”

Bumblebee made a dismissive sound and waved a servo at him. “You’re not thinking creatively enough here. I’m not gonna try getting my legs around your hips.”

“Oh. Well, uh… what are you gonna do?” Bulkhead was genuinely confused. He’d never been very inventive with interface. The basics had always served him well, and he’d never had a partner as small as the scout, so he’d never needed to think outside the box.

He found it hard to think much at all when Bumblebee moved, turning and getting on all fours between his legs, rocking back to rub his valve over his softened spike.

It didn’t take long for THAT to stand to full attention again. Bumblebee gave him another of those sly looks over his shoulder as he ground against him. “C’mon. This way you can control what you do better.”

Bulkhead nodded dumbly, getting the idea and shifting to get on his knees, reaching down to pull the skirt up out of the way, getting an unobstructed view of Bumblebee’s valve.

Frag, the scout was WET. Translucent purple lubricant coated the whole area from his earlier ministrations and leaked in a steady stream down the underside of the well-proportioned spike.

Bulkhead took a moment to stroke and admire the components, making Bumblebee’s engine purr.

Pretty soon though, he couldn’t deny his own need and he put a servo on Bumblebee’s back to steady the smaller bot as he rubbed the underside of his spike against the small valve.

Both of them made small noises of pleasure, Bumblebee rolling his hips against the thick shaft until he felt Bulkhead lining up.

He jerked back, snickering and moaning as he made the head of the spike pop into him, Bulkhead giving a warble of surprise.

The servo on his back got a hold on his backpack to stop him pressing harder against the spike, and Bulkhead began to control the pace, slowly drawing out and pressing just the head in a few times.

The slowness of it drove Bumblebee insane, but he didn’t complain because Bulkhead taking control did something fiercely good to his charge.

He kept his aft raised and tried to lower his chestplate to the berth, Bulkhead’s arm following and pinning him lightly simply from the way he had to lean forward to keep his hold.

Bee stuffed a fist against his mouth and moaned into it as the green mech began to press a little deeper on each thrust.

Unable to fully control his movements though, Bulkhead made a noise of frustration and let Bumblebee go, leaning fully over him and supporting his own weight on his arms.

He shivered and groaned as the freed scout rocked against his spike, forcing it deeper as he rolled his hips.

Bumblebee had always had something of a size kink, loving a good stretch (not that he had much choice usually given his size, but he didn’t care since he enjoyed it) and Bulkhead’s spike was hitting ALL the right spots.

He started to rock harder into the larger mech’s thrusts, undoing Bulkhead’s self-control.

Bulkhead had noted Bumblebee liking when he pinned him. As he got close, he moved his arms, trapping Bee’s shoulders and driving his spike mercilessly into the slick, loudly squelching valve.

Bumblebee had to bite his servo to quiet himself, keening around it as that huge, thick spike spread him wide and the blunt, bulbous head hit his ceiling node over and over until he overloaded _hard._

His spike spattered the skirt and berth with his transfluid, the spike within him feeling twice as big as it pounded through his clenching.

And then Bulkhead came, and he lost control of his vocaliser, squealing as hot transfluid filled him to the brim, triggering a secondary overload and making his spike twitch with the force with which his own silver-blue fluid burst forth.

Above him, Bulkhead let out a guttural moan and hilted himself, grinding against the ceiling node as he filled the valve to overflowing and kept Bee pinned. The smaller mech shook hard beneath him, but by the sound of it, Bulkhead didn’t think he was at all distressed.

When their overload (well, overloads plural in Bumblebee’s case) began to peter out, Bulkhead pulled back. His spike made a slick, wet sound and a satisfying pop as he pulled out of his smaller companion.

Bumblebee whimpered and flopped down, rolling onto his back. He couldn’t care less about the transfluid trickling from his valve onto his skirt and the berth.

“Thawas… thawasAMAZINGbulky… guh…”

Bulkhead, who had sat back on his aft, vents roaring, gave a soft chuckle. “Thanks Bee… I try.”

The green mech looked over at the scout, his spike remaining slightly pressurised as he let his optics roam over the still half-tented fabric covering Bee’s spike. It was soaked with fluids, which meant less was left to the imagination as to what was underneath, but the more he looked, the more he liked the visual.

Bulkhead moved, rolling onto his front so his head was closer to Bumblebee’s midriff. The yellow mech didn’t really seem to be paying much mind to what he was doing, until a large servo began stroking at his spike through the skirt fabric.

Bumblebee jerked and revved, propping himself up on his elbows to look down his chassis at his friend. He cocked an orbital ridge at him curiously, but the green much just grinned and continued stroking.

With his other servo, he reached around, propping one of Bumblebee’s legs over his arm so he could grasp the bottom edge of the skirt and pull it down, trapping the spike between pelvis and fabric… leaving it at the mercy of his teasing digits.

Bumblebee shivered and moaned as thick fingers pressed and rubbed at his repressurising cable. With the soaked fabric acting as a barrier to direct touch, his overly-sensitive spike didn’t feel overwrought by the stimulation.

Instead it gave him the most delicious tingling waves of pleasure, and he slumped back with a breathy moan, hips arching into the touch. The pressure of the fabric being used to trap the spike was a whole other level of hot.

He gasped and mewled when another thick digit teased at his valve through the fabric being pulled down over it. His optics shot to Bulkheads, the green mech giving him a smirk he’d never seen on his friend’s face before.

Ooooh now he got it. This was Bulkhead _showing off_ now. Probably in response to his earlier oral ministrations.

Well, he certainly didn’t have any objections. He gave his friend a heated, curious look. “Nnnh what’re you up to huh? Tryin’ to get me worn out or something? Gonna be at it a while.”

Bulkhead chuckled, the sound resonant and lazy. “Maaaybe. Or maybe I just wanna see how long I can tease you before you start losin’ your cool.”

That had Bumblebee losing his cocky smirk a little at the very least. He bucked and gasped as Bulkhead stroked his trapped spike more firmly before switching to a maddeningly light touch.

Bee arched his hips and squeaked when a thick digit pushed against his valve through the fabric, dipping in slightly.

His hips fell back down and Bulkhead teased around the head of his spike, nearly pinching it between two digits, rolling it between them lightly. Bumblebee keened and squirmed.

“B-Bulkyyyyy stop being cruel!” He groaned, spike straining hard now against the fabric, valve throbbing with the teasing probes to its entrance that didn’t end in any real penetration.

Bulkhead found it kind of amazing how quickly the Yellow bot was ready for another round. His own spike might have hardened again, but he still hadn’t quite regained enough energy to work up his next charge.

And if he let Bumblebee try and do it for him, he’d probably end up OVER stimulated, and unable to really go the rest of the way without a pit load of discomfort.

Bulkhead was quite happy to tease his friend to another overload while he recovered though. He did hope Bee’s bragging about his stamina wasn’t just hot air though.

It was wickedly satisfying to bring the yellow racer to the point of writhing and pleading so easily. Seemed he wasn’t used to being teased.

Bulkhead’s grin only widened as another aborted press against the sopping wet valve had Bee’s engine revving in heated frustration.

“Damnit Bulky! AHN! Do SOMETHING or I’m gonna finish myself o- OH!” Bumblebee was silenced by a sudden shift, the green mech shifting the servo that had been teasing his spike and sliding it under his back plates. Bumblebee accommodated the move, a little confused but desperate enough to comply.

His head and shoulders were propped up on Bulkhead’s arm now. Bumblebee’s optics widened as the servo that had been holding the skirt down let it go. Said servo grasped the underside of his right thigh and pressed it up and back, where his other servo caught and held his pede.

Bumblebee shivered. Bulkhead knew just how flexible he was from other non-interface instances where he’d had to use it.

The fact he was now taking full advantage of that told Bee just what his friend had imagined him doing in his stray inappropriate thoughts. Well… then again, he didn’t really consider them inappropriate… more flattering.

Having trapped one pede, Bulkhead shifted his other arm so the left leg propped over it was spread a little further open. Then he leant his helm, which was much closer to the sub-compact’s body now, down to the apex of his crotch.

Bumblebee’s vents caught as the swell of the huge green jaw armour rubbed across his still hidden spike. Bulkhead tilted his helm and got the skirt fabric in his mouth, dragging it up to fully expose his friend’s soaked equipment once more.

The yellow bot whimpered. Ooooh that was hot. But it was NOTHING compared to what his friend did next.

His spike was now standing up stiffly from his body, once again dripping with transfluid. It only dripped more as a large, flat glossa came out to lap at the tip, swirling around it. At the same time, a large, blunt digit pressed slowly into Bumblebee’s valve.

The yellow speedster warbled, a servo flying to his mouth for him to bite down on as he shivered and bucked. The position didn’t leave him much freedom of movement though. Bulkhead had him trapped in a rather gentle and, frankly, _delicious_ way.

He squirmed and watched with a rapidly heating faceplate as that large mouth and glossa teased his length. He cried out as a thick finger pumped his valve slowly and that big, powerful mouth wrapped fully around his spike.

It was a little awkward to get Bumblebee’s spike into his mouth, the only thing preventing him from taking the whole thing in one gulp being his oversized jaw-guard. He didn’t take it off though, because it served its own purpose in this.

Very carefully, he twisted his helm from side to side, glossa lapping over the spike as the ‘teeth’ on his lower mandible guard rubbed over the base of the cable.

Bumblebee arched, clapping a servo over his mouth to muffle his cries as he came undone.

Bulkhead didn’t mind the taste of transfluid, and continued to lap and mouth Bee’s spike as it dribbled down his chin. The fluttering, clenching valve on his digit had him groaning with desire again.

Oh yeah. He was definitely ready for his next round now. The question of course, was if Bumblebee was up for more.

“Oooooohfragbulkyspikeme… I need… I need… valve needs more…” The sub-compact panted, voice thready and higher than normal. Well, that answered that question.

Bulkhead rumbled eagerly, wiping the stray transfluid from his chin as he released his friend and propped himself up slightly. “How do you wanna do it this time? You’re the one with the good position ideas.”

Bee panted and flopped a servo at him as he considered, vents heaving as he panted. “Guh… uuuhm… like this? I’d ride you but… whoooo you kinda blew my circuits and I don’t think my knees could keep me up…” he chuckled, making Bulkhead grin, feeling pleased with himself.

The green bot considered Bumblebee’s sprawled position before his processor figured out how to make it work. He pushed himself up, sliding off his low berth and grabbing Bumblebee’s legs gently to drag him to the edge.

The fire of arousal was still evident in the deep blue glow of the scout’s optics, and he arched eagerly as Bulkhead raised his legs up and apart, holding them to his chest. His thick spike was at just the right height, and he pressed the bulbous head to Bumblebee’s slick, eager valve.

The yellow bot whined impatiently, and Bulkhead adjusted his grip on the smaller thighs as he began to press slowly into the tight, eager heat.

Bumblebee had to bite down on his servo once more to quiet himself, that round hub pressing him wide open again, followed by the delicious stretch of the thick, textured shaft.

Ooooh frag almighty his friend’s girth was just so _satisfying_ in every way. He rolled his hips, but once again Bulkhead had him in a position where he held all the control. Bumblebee was in heaven.

He arched and clenched down as Bulkhead filled him as far as he could fit. The smaller bot was wet and worked over enough now that he could start up a pretty decent pace straight away. The valve stretched easily around him, snug and hot and hungry for him.

Bulkhead gave Bee exactly what he wanted. No teasing, no slow build this time, just a steady, solid fragging. The noises he got for this were the best he’d ever heard his friend make. He couldn’t help the goofy grin or heat that suffused his faceplates.

His thrusts quickly picked up pace, and roughness. He looked down his chassis and watched with undisguised amusement as his thrusts made the smaller bot’s spike bounce. It hadn’t lost any pressure since the last overload, and frankly he was impressed that Bumblebee still had any transfluid left. But still it leaked, spattering the skirt and black midriff plating.

The green mech huffed and rumbled as his overload approached, and comical quickly turned to erotic as Bumblebee reached down to pump his own spike, arching in the most sinful way. His small friend’s faceplate was flushed with heat, optics half shuttered and mouth hanging open.

Making the most of the scout’s flexibility once more, Bulkhead gripped his knees and pushed the fully extended legs out from him, folding Bumblebee over himself a little more, exposing his valve completely.

He then pounded away mercilessly, making Bumblebee squeal and moan with abandon. All attempts to stifle himself forgotten. The loud, wet sounds their fragging produced filled the room and made them both shiver.

Bumblebee palmed his spike furiously before squeezing it and rubbing at the head. He timed it with the slam of Bulkhead’s blunt hub against his ceiling node, and he fell over the edge once more, crying out.

The clench of the valve tipped Bulkhead over, and with a loud, rumbling groan, he ground against the tight port, filling it once more to the point his transfluid spilled out around his own shaft. The strength of Bee’s valve callipers squeezing him made it squirt and splatter over his pelvic plating.

It was the messiest and the best frag he could ever remember having.

After a few moments, he slowly pulled out and flopped to sit beside Bumblebee’s sprawled frame, the scout’s legs dangling over the edge. Transfluid still dripped from his stretched, sated valve, but neither of them cared much.

Bumblebee was pretty sure the streak of his own transfluid across his chassis was all that had been left in his reserves. It wasn’t the first time he’d emptied them, but it was the most fun he’d had doing it.

Neither of them spoke for a few kliks, vents buzzing as their frames cooled, and metal ticking as their spikes slowly softened at last.

“We… we gotta do that again sometime… next time you gotta wear a skirt too.” Bee snickered, Bulkhead chuckling at the suggestion and humming in thought. “OK. But only if it matches my paint. I’m an artist y’know, I’m not gonna wear anything that clashes.”

The two of them had a giggle over that before a sharp rapping on the green bot’s door startled them. Ratchet’s voice came through the roller door in its usual grumpy drawl.

“IF you two are done in there, I thought you’d like to know that Sari is on her way here with Prowl. They’re about five minutes away. You MIGHT not wanna waste any time cleaning up.”

They could almost hear the wickedly smug look the medic had to of been wearing.

All they could do was share a horrified look.

Down the hall they could have sworn they heard Ratchet laughing.


End file.
